


Greenleaf Cafe

by TheMirkyKing



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Referrences to bands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMirkyKing/pseuds/TheMirkyKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard and Thranduil meet again and verbal sparring ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greenleaf Cafe

“YOU!” Thranduil Oropherion exclaimed when he saw Bard sitting by the fireplace drinking from a battered stainless steel travel mug. Bard looked up from the papers he was reading to calmly regard the dripping wet owner of Greenleaf Café. 

“Problem?” Bard inquired, knowing full well why Thranduil was standing there seething. Thranduil felt a sudden urge to slap the slightly amused look off that handsome face. 

“Just because the sign says “Reserved For” does not mean it is reserved for you!” He said through gritted teeth.

“Oh?” Bard gave Thranduil a puzzled frown before faux compression dawned. “OH! You see I thought it was for customers.” He paused to take a sip from his personal cup. “I didn’t realize that it was for ONE person! Not when parking is so hard to come by!” He chuckled, “I mean who would be so arrogant?” 

This infuriated Thranduil further. He hadn’t expected to see this man again, not after last week. Thranduil had noticed this attractive man when he had first come in. But he had insulted HIS coffee house. Thranduil had been perversely pleased when it had turned out that the truck being ticketed had been this man’s. Thranduil was surprised when he saw that same vehicle in his parking spot! Such gall! Thranduil stood there fuming for the briefest of moments before responding.

“I PAY the city for that spot!” he spat. “Did YOU pay for yours?” 

“Of course I did! Are you sure that you ‘re parked in an appropriate spot?” Bard inquired cockily. “You should really dry yourself off before you catch a cold.” He suggested. “And maybe use an umbrella next time?” He added with a grin and resumed his reading, effectively dismissing Thranduil. Thranduil stood there glaring at him. Like any Pacific Northwestern he had several umbrellas. He currently had three of them kicking around in his car but they rarely got used. Thranduil had to park three blocks away and then make a run thru the pouring rain to the coffee house. Yes, he could have used one but they just got in the way and made a mess.

“Maybe I should call your boss…” Thranduil threatened and before he could finish Bard looked up from his papers and leapt at the chance to interrupt him.

“No need,” he quipped with enthusiasm. “You’re speaking to him!” Bard said grinning up at Thranduil. Thranduil eyes widened for an instant before then narrowing to icy, piercing slits.

“You’re …?”

“Yup!” Bard jauntily informed him. “Bard Bowman… as in Bowman Construction.” Thranduil exhaled. Damn it; this was not going how he expected! The man did not seem to be intimidated by him at all, something he was not used to. 

“So let’s hear them.” Bard demanded.

“Hear what?” Thranduil snapped miffed over not having gotten the reaction that he had expected from this man.

“Your complaints, besides the parking issue, of course!” Bard cheekily demanded.

Thranduil eyed him critically, taking in Bard’s work clothing as he slipped out of his own wet overcoat. Overcome by a petty impulse, he gave his long coat a quick shake, sprinkling Bard with water. Thranduil knew it was childish but he couldn’t help it. Thranduil was still feeling irked by “Bard”. Bard grunted in annoyance and grabbed a napkin to wipe the droplets of water from himself and his papers. He shot Thranduil an irate look. What a jerk move, Bard thought as Thranduil turned his back on him to hang up his coat up before slowly turning back to him. 

“Well…..your rather shabby dress code leaves something to be desired.” He tutted at Bard. Bard’s confident demeanor slipped, just a fraction, along with the smile. But his smile was back in full force when he saw what Thranduil was wearing. 

“Well not everyone gets to wear 1,000 dollar suites to work, although today must be casual Friday.” He quipped, laughing at Thranduil’s sour look. Thranduil had forgone his usual suit in favor of black slacks, a burgundy collared shirt with a dark grey tie and a black, cashmere sweater. His long, silver-blonde hair fell loose around his shoulders and back. Even wet he was still very striking!

Thranduil placed a long hand to his chest dramatically. “How droll! I must have missed the memo for Flashback Friday!” Thranduil sneered as went to the counter to pick up an enormous cup of coffee waiting for him. He gave the barista’s there a tight smile and nod before returning to the table, gesturing at Bard with the cup and said, “Could you be any more of a cliché?” 

“Let me guess,” Thranduil hummed, giving Bard a critical once over. “Your homage to Nirvana or Screaming Trees? Wait a minute, I got it!” He said snapping his fingers and pointed at Bard. “You’re a Kris Cornell wannabe!” He chuckled evilly at his jibe and sat down across from Bard; crossing one incredibly long leg over the other, brushing imagined lint from his pants. Pointing his foot he inspected the toe of his shoe before leaning back in the chair to regard Bard. Thranduil really wasn’t sure why he was joining this infuriating man. It was a busy day and he had other appointments to get to. Still he could take time to have a cup of coffee. He would be the last to admit that he was enjoying this, not one bit! 

“By all means, do join me, it not like I was in the middle of something!” Bard said sarcastically. Thranduil inclined his head slightly. 

“Thank you Brat, I will!” He cheekily quipped.

“It’s Bard, not Brat!” Bard exclaimed. Thranduil suppressed his laughter and took a pull from his cup. 

Bard was rather surprised that this arrogant man had sat down with him. Bard glowered at Thranduil, who wore all too pleased look, trying to come up with a zinger. Thranduil waited, raising a thick brow almost like a challenge to ‘bring it’.

“So what’s wrong with those bands?” Bard demanded finally.

“Nothing,” Thranduil replied smirking. 

“I bet you just go crazy when Wagner’s “Ring” is playing!” Bard quipped. “No doubt you have a “Reserved For” box at the opera too!”

Thranduil couldn’t help himself and laughed; a rich and lyrical sound. Bard liked it, as well as the smile that danced in Thranduil’s eyes. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I go crazy but I rather do enjoy the Seattle Opera’s production of it.” Bard snorted at this, of course, and rolled his eyes. “Now if we’re talking Maiden, then, yes I might go a bit crazy.” He responded dryly. Bard’s jaw dropped.

“Get the hell out of here!” he exclaimed. “You listen to Iron Maiden?” Bard had not expected that of such an elegantly dressed man. 

“Sure, and Black Sabbath, Metalica, AC/DC, Motorhead….”

“Now I know you’re having me on!” Bard laughed. There was no way! Thranduil regarded Bard with a stoic face.

“Bruce Dickinson has a very operatic voice, don’t you think?” He asked as he took a sip of his coffee. Bard wasn’t sure. He was not well versed in heavy metal music. His own taste ran to alternative, classic rock and folk music.

“Well…” Bard began and shrugged, “You just don’t really look like you would… ya know…listen to such music.” he trailed off. Thranduil gave him a quirked smile.

“Why? Because I’m not wearing ripped up jeans and a tee-shirt?” Thranduil grinned and went on. “You, though, simply scream “Long Live Grunge”, with all that plaid you’re wearing.”

“I wear comfortable clothes, so what” Bard grumbled. Thranduil scrunched up his face. 

“As a business owner I feel it’s important to look one’s best, and you, well….” he paused, shaking his head at Bard sadly, a look of mock sorrow on his face. 

“Sorry I don’t live up to your snooty dressing standards but I actually work for a living” Bard bristled. “I wear the appropriate clothing for my job!” Thranduil inhaled sharply ready to respond but Bard went on. “Aren’t you a bit overdressed for sitting around drinking coffee all day? Or maybe you’re going shopping at some private, high end; ‘don’t come in unless we see your titanium credit card’, store!” 

“I am perfectly attired for the day! I have other establishments beyond Greenleaf, which require my attention!” Thranduil countered. “As for shopping,” Thranduil stressed, “you certainly seem like a second hand shopper!” 

Bard shrugged. Jeans, tee-shirts, hoodies, and plaid work shirts, were comfortable and could take the abuse of a work site. And you definitely got dirty on a job site. Why wear fancy stuff when it would get damaged? He was proud to be a thrift shop guy. Besides it was better to find the 50% off color tags then pay $50.00 at a department store. He had other priorities in his life that came before dressing in “the best”. Those priorities were three children, a mortgage on a too small house, a construction company and oh yeah, employees who expected to be paid. Clothing was very low on his list. Bard said none of this to a man who clearly could afford such things with no problem. Bard was surprised to learn that this wasn’t his only business. He was mildly impressed and wondered what the other businesses were. 

Bard took a long sip from his coffee and suddenly felt guilty for indulging in the overpriced cuppa. But it really was good. They sat there in charged silence, each wondering what sharp comment the other would make. Bard caught Thranduil studying the tattoo of three crossed arrows on his right forearm and before the blonde could even open his mouth to comment, Bard beat him to it.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said in a bored tone. “I’ve got tattoos, how original! I’m betting your lily white ass is free from any ink.”

Thranduil smiled as Bard took another sip of coffee before saying, “What I have or do not have tattooed on my ass is none of your concern Mr. Bowman.” 

Bard almost blew coffee out of his nose at this. Instead he ended up coughing and sputtering, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He hadn’t meant it literally of course! Images of what a man like him would have on his…. Bard shook his head to banish the lurid thought, as pleasant as that thought was. Thranduil sipped his coffee to cover the satisfied smile on his lips at seeing the deepening crimson of Bard’s face. 

“So the arrows?” Thranduil asked. “Not just because of your last name?” And dropping his voice muttered not quite under his breath, “I hope.” 

“Please.” Bard said in scorn. “Archery, I competed in high school.” 

“Any good? Thranduil goaded. 

“I could hit my marks!” Bard said. Actually he had been very good but he didn’t want to brag. Thranduil gave him a calculating look.

“Well, well, a man of many talents: builder, baker, candle-stick maker?” Thranduil teased. “Do you still compete?” 

Bard shook his head. He practiced when he had time, which wasn’t as often as he liked.

“Why did you stop?” Thranduil pressed. “Did you not enjoy it?”

“Of course I did, I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t.” Bard retorted. 

“So….?” Thranduil dragged out, flourishing his hand to indicate that Bard should continue, though why he was interested to know made him pause. 

“Well, three kids and work kind of takes up my time.” He grinned at Thranduil. “Although my eldest daughter competes and she’s very good.” Bard had no problem bragging about his children. 

“Three children!” Thranduil exclaimed his blue eyes widening in surprise. “You look so young!” 

“Yeah, well let’s just say that I wasn’t exactly the poster boy for abstinence in high school!” Bard ran his hand though his hair laughing self- deprecatingly. “’Just say no’ is easier for drugs than romance.”

Thranduil glanced at Bard’s hand and saw no wedding ring but that didn’t mean anything. It was possible he wouldn’t wear it while working. Thranduil’s eyes came back to Bard’s and he looked away quickly when he saw how Bard was looking at him. It had been a while since anyone had flirted with him and he was pretty sure that was what was going on, even if it wasn’t in the traditional manner. Thranduil suddenly felt a twinge of hesitation. He really should be getting to work. 

A faint smile played on Bard’s lips. Thranduil seemed uneasy and Bard couldn’t help but feel a little smug that he was causing this haughty man to flush. Could it be that Thranduil was attracted to him? Despite his initial impression of Thranduil being a jerk, he had surprised Bard. Bard was wondering what other secrets Thranduil might reveal if given a chance. He wanted to find out what those might be. 

“Do you have any children?” Bard inquired. He had noticed Thranduil looking at his hand just as he had checked for a wedding band on Thranduil’s. Bard wasn’t a hundred percent but he was pretty sure that Thranduil was interested. Having three kids usually put a damper on dating, so the fact that Thranduil was still sitting with him made Bard hopeful. 

Thranduil didn’t respond right away, uneasy with the direction the conversation was going. Instead he shifted his gaze to the fire, not sure if he wanted to reveal any more of his personal life to a practical stranger. They sat there drinking coffee, the sounds of the café playing around them. Bard glanced at Thranduil, noticing the small frown on his face, dark brows furrowed in thought. Bard was surprised, it really was a simple question to answer, yes or no. He drummed his fingers on his knee restlessly.

Thranduil stirred and raised his eyes to Bard and nodded. “I have a son.” Thranduil responded softly. “His name is Legolas.” Bard smiled but Thranduil still seemed uneasy. 

“Interesting names must run in your family,” Bard laughed. “Thought I can’t say that mine own brood doesn’t have unique names too!” Bard waited for Thranduil to ask and when he didn’t, supplied them for him. “Sigrid is my eldest, then my son Bain and my youngest Tilda.” Thranduil nodded but said nothing further. 

Bard wasn’t sure why Thranduil seemed upset. He just wanted to keep up the conversation with this handsome man and find out more about him. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed sparring with anyone. Bard was at a loss on how to get back to their feisty tete-a-tete without forcing it. Bard rubbed his hands over his arms, sighing, closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Soft fingers touched his arm. Bard eyes flew open in astonishment. The hair’s on the back of his arm and neck prickling from Thranduil’s touch.

“It is a lovely tattoo.” Thranduil said thoughtfully, his finger still lingered on Bard’s arm. He looked up at Bard thru dark lashes. Bard gave him a searching look, a soft smile playing on his lips. Thranduil snatched his hand back. He couldn’t quite believe he had done that. Thranduil felt flustered for having done such a thing. 

Bard opened his mouth to say something when his phone rang. Bard flashed Thranduil a quick smile and seeing who the incoming call was from, swore before answering it. Thranduil could hear a man’s voice demanding to know where the hell he was. Bard jumped up, rushing to gather up his belongings and shoving them into his satchel. Bard gave Thranduil an apologetic smile and mouthed “Got to go!” 

Thranduil watched him practically run from the café. He sat there for a few moments, looking at the travel mug that Bard had left behind in his rush to leave. He reached over and picked it up. He snorted at the worn logo, a black arrow underscoring Bowman Construction. He smiled, not surprised by it, yet the image felt homemade. The smile slipped from his face. 

What was he doing? He thought, shaking his head. He hadn’t been flirting with Bard, he told himself. He had just been talking with a customer; that was all. Yes, admittedly a handsome one but that had nothing to do with anything! Thranduil chewed his lip in apprehension and sighed heavily. So what if he had been flirty? How often did his boyfriend Rumil tell him that flirting was good for one’s ego? Thranduil huffed. Rumil was never shy of chatting up anyone! 

Thranduil rose, and feigning his usual confidence sauntered past the counter, where his two barista’s, Sara and Andie were busy working. “Ladies,” He said as he headed towards his office in the back. They both nodded but kept their faces polite till they were sure he was in his office. Once they heard the door shut they both grinned at what they had just witnessed. They had been keenly watching the whole exchange between the two men.

Both girls had been surprised when their aloof boss had sat down and started trading barbs with Bard. Not that they could blame him for wanting to do that! Bard was one of those guys who was completely unaware of how good looking he was and that made him even more sweet and desirable. And he had given Thranduil a run for his money with the snarky comments. They could barely hide their delight at the banter they had witnessed. They had been just as shocked as Bard when Thranduil had touched him. They could see that Thranduil was attracted to Bard, even if he wasn’t quite aware of it himself. Bard was certainly interested in Thranduil. 

After a few speculative exchanges and much giggling, Sara shook her head. Andie gave her an inquiring look and said “What?” 

Sara exhaled. “Poor bastard,” she said gesturing towards the window and the passing truck with Bowman Construction on the side. “He doesn’t have a clue for what he’s in for!”

**Author's Note:**

> A great big thank you to my beta- "The Editor", who is the best mate one can ask for! I've sucked him into the Barduil universe! :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think! Thanks!


End file.
